WxG OneShots and Drabbles
by seichiinara
Summary: UPDATE: I've received the title of the Celestial Queen of WodaGrora. Excellent. Depending on my mood it could be crack, R18, fluff, etc, but for some reason I seem to be the best at writing angst? Refer to the warnings at the start of each chapter for more info.
1. Eyes

I keep finding so many typos sigh

Warning: Kinda gory, yandere max

* * *

**#1: Eyes**

A sigh unconsciously escaped Grora's lips as she gazed at her partner. Engrossed in his work, his eyes scanned the words carefully but nimbly, pen lightly touching the surface of the papers as he scribbled down comments, the swish and flick of his wrist as he left the eighth hundredth and thirty first signature.

She couldn't deny it, the Head Angel was incredibly handsome. Sometimes she would pull out the drawer where she secretly kept a lock of his light grey hair: it still retained the faint scent of the angel it belonged to. And his eyes, calm as a flowing river, sharp as the predatory hawk, but if she looked carefully she could see the gentleness his cold eyes hid, a little flare of warmth that rarely appeared, but made her heart leap when it did.

Everyday, she would hide nearby, watching as the Head Angel strode up to the immense, monochrome doors, using his right hand to knock smartly on the door as the other hand supported the weight of a slice of cream strawberry cake.

"Brother, I've brought your afternoon snack."

And everyday, Kcalb would open the door with barely concealed excitement, his hands immediately swiping away the cake like a cat pouncing on a mouse. And he would try to hide his ecstatic smile as he replied with a "thank you".

This happened numerous times a day. And each time, the Head Angel's grey eye would reveal that little spark of warmth, as if made happy by his brother's happiness. At first, a small smile would show up on her face when she saw how happy the Head Angel was, but after a while, the smile became smaller and smaller, more and more forced as her heart began to knot up each time she saw it.

Why didn't the Head Angel look at her with those eyes?

Being an incredibly busy man, the Head Angel barely had any time to spare for anything else. And Grora, being the understanding admirer she was, hence reduced the time she spent with him, only getting close to him every once in a while to throw an insult, or to tease him with a smirk on her face.

But each time, the Head Angel would only glance briefly at her, before his eyes would be drawn away by something else.

And his right eye. It was had been so long ago that Kcalb had taken his eye, and Grora always felt a twinge of sympathy and sadness, looking at that beautiful face scarred by the absent eye. It made her indignant to think that Kcalb would dare to do such a thing, indignant that Wodahs still looked at him with that blissful expression, as if Kcalb had stolen his gaze away when he took his eye.

She hated it. She hated how she couldn't evoke any emotions from him, couldn't capture his attention for long, hated how he was so absorbed in his work, absorbed in his job, absorbed...

By **that person**.

* * *

"Brother, I've brought your afternoon snack."

As per usual, Wodahs strode up to the immense, monochrome doors, using his right hand to knock smartly on the door as the other hand supported the weight of a slice of cream chocolate cake.

"... ..." There was no reply, and Wodahs repeated his words again, while wondering if Kcalb had not heard him.

"... Brother, I've brought your afternoon snack."

Even though he strained his ears, Wodahs still couldn't hear even the faintest reply from his brother, his worry increasing tenfold as he slowly grasped the doorknob and pushed the door open.

"Brother...?"

The pool of red on the marble floor was becoming larger and larger by the minute, as a liquid Wodahs knew all too well seeped out of the black-clad figure. Lying face-down with his body sprawled messily on the ground, Kcalb's face was obscured, but judging by the angry red wounds Wodahs could slightly see, it had probably been mutilated beyond compare. His clothes were torn and tattered, bruises and scars covering nearly his entire body, and...

Wodahs... Recognised the numerous arrows piercing the corpse.

Grey boots echoed against the floor, before she lifted a foot and planted it on the body, resting her elbow on her knee as she smiled. "Ah, Head Angel." Grora's voice sounded exactly the same as usual, but the blood smeared on her clothes and splattered on her face made her typical smirk and serene eyes all the more malevolent, all the more sadistic.

"Grora..." A trickle of sweat ran down Wodahs' temple despite his voice retaining its usual, icy manner. He... Had never thought Grora could have made such a deadly enemy. And to think that Kcalb was a Devil too... Part of him couldn't comprehend it, couldn't believe the sight before him, but the other part tensed up, finally aware of who was the true demon in front of him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" While her voice was sweet as ever, the malice was prominent in her words as she stepped on Kcalb's body and walked up to him, drawing closer with a widening smirk. Wodahs turned his head as he took a step backwards, avoiding eye contact with the bloodstained angel.

Suddenly, he felt her hands grasp his tie forcefully, and was forced to bend down as she yanked his torso downwards. His eye met hers directly: Wodahs was alarmed to find that her eye was devoid of emotion, as if her soul had been taken away, so empty that he was forced to realise that Grora... Was capable of doing anything in her current state.

"Why're you looking away? I won't allow you to look at anyone else, you know~?"

At that, Wodahs knew it was time to make his escape. The menace in those words was even more brutal than anything any of the demons in the war had ever said: if he didn't run now, Grora would likely do something to him that was even worse than death itself. Struggling to break free, Wodahs clawed at the girl, hoping that her petite size would translate to her physical power, his wings beating frantically as he tried to break free of her grasp.

But his thrashing was in vain, as the angel narrowed her eyes in amusement, before pulling him off his feet and hurling him into the ground. The force of the impact knocked the wind out of Wodahs, and he heard the sound of a crack even before the pain of his fractured wing began to take hold. As he shut his eye tightly and squirmed in agony, Grora stepped over him, straddling him as she placed a finger to her mouth, licking her lips as her red eyes flashed dangerously.

"If I can't capture your gaze..."

Amidst his pain, Wodahs opened his remaining eye, only to find it staring at the sharp, gleaming tip of an arrow.

**"... Shall I steal your eye instead?"**

**End.**


	2. Grora was Dead

Makin' my way downtown walkin' faster

Warning: Bad writing, badly written angst, implied frickle frackle, slightly gory

* * *

**#2: Grora was Dead**

A fair complexion, with translucent lips sealed permanently with a slight pout. Gazing at the Head Angel as she hid at her assigned position, Grora lifted her fingers, touching her lips as she wondered how those gentle lips would feel as he caressed her cheeks, before she turned pink and hastily dropped her hand, ducking behind the ivory pillar and clutching her burning face while trying to steady her weapon hand.

No, she was just imagining things. Someone as inferior as him couldn't possibly have caught her eye after all.

Hesitantly, she peeked out again at the figure, the sword in his hand so swift that it sliced the air with a sound distinct enough for the sharp-eared Grora to catch. Though his soft hair was tousled by the strong gusts, despite the blood that spurted out and dyed his pure white clothes, his smoky grey eyes remained unruffled and emotionless with each merciless strike. Standing alone in a massacre of fallen demons, the Head Angel lowered his sword. Then he inclined his head, and before Grora could pretend that she hadn't been staring, their eyes met, and she could clearly understand what he intended to say: _Don't be distracted._

Breaking the eye contact, she crouched down again violently, traces of red still on her face. _You should take it as a compliment that your skills are pleasing to the eye,_ she thought furiously as she lay in wait.

"Look Arbus, it's their Head Angel." Grora tensed as she heard a voice. Though it sounded naive on the surface, she knew better: as Lady Etihw's most elite archer, her senses were better than anyone else's, and this girl... Under her innocent words lay malice.

"A surprise, indeed it is." A cool voice replied, and Grora shivered at the smirk she could imagine on this other girl's face.

"Look Arbus, the entire elite force is dead." That same girl again. "Shall we take revenge?"

"Let us avenge them." At this, Grora heard the click of a shoe stepping forward as she heard the ringing sound of a trident metamorphosing, and knew it was time to act: in the blink of an eye, she cocked her head to aim at a black-haired demon as she readied her bow and let loose an arrow. Without even looking, she knew she had hit her target based on the sharp cry the cool girl let out, and swiftly darted away to another vantage point, knowing they could trace her arrow back. At the time, she heard the Head Angel's sword again swish through the air, and another cry came from the naive girl.

"My, my, a sneak attack? That's unfair."

Lifting her head slightly above the banister, Grora's eyes sighted the girl she had hit, the arrow piercing her shoulder dripping with fresh blood. So she was the one with the cool voice. Since both of the demons were injured, they now had the tactical advantage. With a light spring, Grora stood on the railing, a hand on her hip as the other gripped her bow. "It's not unfair to have comrades," she declared with a smirk on her face as her eyes blazed with fighting spirit. Wodahs again took the chance as the girls were distracted by Grora to land another blow, which nicked the cheek of the white-haired girl.

In the ensuing battle, Wodahs and Grora took up one of their fighting strategies. As partners on the battlefield, they had come up with different tactics for different occasions. For a two on two battle where the other duo was strong, Wodahs engaged both of them with both swords, refusing to let them escape from his sight, while Grora darted around, preventing them from landing a single hit on the Head Angel with precise shots. Weakened by the surprise attacks, the two girls were wearing out rather quickly. With her sharp eyes, Grora noted that they had double wings and cat features: could they be the Demon King's pet cats? She didn't know, but it was likely: the way they parried Wodahs' swords, held their tridents, went on the offensive, they all resembled the style of the Demon King's elite force, if not slightly more refined.

"Grora!" Brought back to her senses by Wodahs, Grora hastily fired another shot, before realising that he hadn't been calling her for backup: the white cat was gone. Shit. Trusting that Wodahs could take the black one on alone, Grora instantly went on the defensive, drawing closer to the Head Angel so they could reinforce each other as she tried to sight the missing girl. A flash of white appeared to her right: she instantly drew back an arrow which sliced through the air. It hit nothing but a white handkerchief, and Grora immediately realised her mistake as she felt her arrows get knocked away from her, scattering on the ground before they were burned to ashes with demon magic.

"!" How could she have fallen for such a cheap trick!

With no arrows to shoot, the white cat clearly showed immense trust in Arbus' ability to keep Wodahs occupied as she took her time to approach the defenseless Grora. Tensing up her body, Grora continued to grip her bow tightly as her eyes darted around vainly, looking for any arrows the demon might have missed. She felt her hair being violently grabbed and flinched in pain as the demon jerked her closer, pointing her trident at her neck. Meeting eyes with the red-eyed white cat, those eyes appeared soulful and bright, before closing with a smile.

"What beautiful eyes... May I have them?"

Before Grora's eyes could even dilate in fear at those venomous words, she felt the trident shift away from her throat, saw a sharp white object before a searing pain consumed her left eye.

"NGH—AHHH!"

Closing her eyes in agony, she let out a bloodcurdling scream, eyebrows furrowed in pain; opening her terror-filled eyes, she tried to see, but her eyesight was warped: she could only see the smiling, bloodstained face of the white cat, and her left eye saw nothing but red darkness. She felt something oozing out of her left socket, not only blood, but the gel-like remains of... It hurt... **It hurt!**

Amidst the pain, she heard a squelching sound and felt the trident bruise against her stabbed left eye as it was removed, screaming again from the agony as she stumbled backwards, clutching her left eye socket, trying vainly to relieve the pain. Yet, the white cat yanked on her ponytails again, dragging her back forcefully.

"But the other eye isn't done yet!"

A shudder ran through Grora as she heard those words, and she screamed again, this time for something else. "Head Angel! Wodahs!" Those piteous, crying words she uttered would be enough to convince him that saving her was primary.

Another wide smile appeared on the demon's face. "He seems to be slightly too occupied to help you—"

But that was all the distraction she needed. What kind of elite fighter would she be if she couldn't even handle something as simple as this?

This time it was the demon who staggered back, her white hair swishing, slowly turning red as the hidden dagger Grora always kept with her pierced her chest. "Ater! Hang in th—" Both of them heard the anxious cry of the black cat, which was cut off by the sound of a blade slashing her.

Arbus appeared before Grora, holding onto Ater resolutely while the wound on her neck bled onto her tattered clothes. Giving her a venomous stare, they then disappeared in a smoke of flames. While relieved to see them gone, the pain in her left eye was too much to bear: Grora collapsed to the ground, curling up and gritting her teeth while trying not to whimper.

She heard the sound of rapid footsteps before feeling someone gently hold her by the shoulders and lift her torso. "Grora." That quiet, cool voice uttered her name, and Grora tried to answer, but her throat was too choked up with sobs she was trying to hold in. Still feeling one eye oozing out some gooey substance while it burned with a searing pain, her remaining eye could barely see anything thanks to the tears that were rapidly rolling down her cheeks.

Of all people, why did he have to be the one to see her so pathetic?

* * *

Lightly touching the gauze over her missing eye, her other eye darted to the side and locked contact with the Head Angel's gaze.

"... ..."

"... ..."

Neither of them really had anything to say, and silence ensued. Unable to cope with the intensity of his gaze, Grora buried her face in her legs.

"... Are you alright?" The Head Angel finally broke the silence, and Grora trembled slightly at the calmness of his words.

Trying not to reveal her uncontrollable shivering as she remembered the incident, she struggled to maintain her usual, unfazed manner. "Yeah, whatever."

"... ..."

"... ..."

Even after being partners for such a long time, they still couldn't seem to engage in conversation properly after all.

"... Shall I request for you to be reallocated?"

Grora flinched at those words. True, without her left eye she had been potentially incapacitated. Not only was she right-handed, her master eye had also been her left eye, and there was no one else around with eyes as sharp as hers. Changing hands was a possibility, but teaching herself to hold the bow and shoot with her right eye as master eye, with her left hand...

"... You can't be an elite sharpshooter anymore, after all."

Even she herself wasn't entirely sure she could do it, but the Head Angel's words directly attacked her pride and rifled up her anger.

Lifting her head, she glared fiercely at him with her remaining eye, and even though he showed no emotion, no reaction whatsoever, she still felt a sense of relief as she haughtily uttered two words:

"Watch me."

* * *

**—Twang.**

The shooting range was littered with fallen arrows that had missed its mark. Biting her lip, Grora somewhat regretted saying those words so confidently. Previously, she had already trained her arms to be strong enough to bear the burden it would, of holding the bow and drawing the string: now, she was having difficulty swapping their roles, and while her arrows had once been strong enough to fly the distance of a village, her trembling hands could barely allow them to traverse 5 feet.

Not only that, but her technique as well. Being unused to this changed orientation, her stance was slightly awkward as well. Not to mention that her non-master eye caused her aiming to be slightly off, and combining all these factors together, it was already good if she could hit the target.

"..." Her remaining eye narrowed as she lowered her bow. In fury, she punched the ivory walls, which left vicious cracks that she would sooner or later have to clean up. But right now, she didn't give a single fuck.

"... Damn it..." Those words were murmured with gritted teeth.

Suddenly, she felt a warm, broad hand on her arm and flinched, hastily jerking her head to see who it was. The Head Angel, unfazed by her violent reaction, gently pulled her hand away from the wall and put it back down beside her.

"... What a surprise, Head Angel." Again, her words betrayed no emotion as she acted as if it was completely normal to smash walls to pieces.

She couldn't show weakness in front of him of all people.

"I see you're having difficulties." Unlike her, he didn't even need to try to sound normal. With Grora's bad mood, though, she interpreted it as a condescending remark, and snapped back. "Thanks," she answered, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"... ..."

"... ..."

Shaking off the Head Angel's hand, Grora went back to her original position, picking up another arrow, but paused. It would be embarrassing for her to be seen by the Head Angel struggling with something she was supposed to be good at. Instead, she idled away, pretending to fuss over a scratch on her pristine yew bow while hoping he would leave soon.

"... ..." She could still sense his presence. Annoyed, she continued to idle away, praying that he would get the hint and leave.

Instead, she felt his hands clasp hers.

"?!"

Unused to any form of intimacy with anyone, least of all a male, Grora's heart skipped a beat as she trembled slightly, cheeks turning red as her lips clamped tighter together. The sharp-witted Head Angel had probably noticed, but if he did, he chose not to say anything, instead gently positioning her hands.

"Draw back like this." Without breaking a sweat, the Head Angel adjusted Grora's body with his hands, although he refrained from touching the more controversial areas. The petite angel was having trouble controlling her emotions: her heart kept beating faster, a fluttery sensation in her body as her face heated up more and more.

"Considering that I'm the professional when it comes to archery, how sure are you that you have any jurisdiction to tell me that?" Even in such a situation, Grora still tried to keep up her arrogant facade.

"I apologise." On the contrary, she didn't hear a single apologetic tone in his words, and her heart beat even faster as Wodahs repositioned his hands on hers. Not daring to turn to look at him, she kept looking forward, not daring to even let her eyes roam on his warm, careful hands that still felt soft despite his constant use of the sword. Inwardly, she marvelled at how he was capable of remaining so gentle with her despite exerting so much force to draw a full bow, but again didn't show it. "Is this the best you can do? Pathetic." While she felt like her words had wavered, the Head Angel again didn't show if he had heard her nervousness.

"I apologise."

"Now let go." Obeying his authoritative command, she released the arrow, which soared and landed perfectly on the center of the target. While she inwardly danced, her heart fluttering both from the attention he was giving her and her success, she continued to keep her a false appearance.

"... Your luck isn't too bad." As if knowing that was the best he'd ever get out of her, Wodahs bowed his head slightly in thanks.

* * *

While she assisted the Head Angel with the paperwork, her eyes slowly drifted over to Wodahs again. The peaceful look on his face as he sat comfortably in his chair doing his work made a fluttery feeling arise in Grora's heart, somewhat like happines—No, that was too retarded for someone like her.

Her mind still ended up drifting back to the incident, and her hand unconsciously shifted to the gauze.

—Life without her left eye, huh... She shivered as she wondered what would have happened had Ater successfully taken her other eye too. _I'll need to be prepared... If that ever happens, I'll be in a worse situation than right now._

Closing her remaining eye, she tried to rely on her other senses to make up for the lack of sight, carefully listening to the scratching sound of her pen to know if she was writing on the line, feeling the smoothness of the quality paper the documents were written on. With some difficulty she finally completed one, and placed it aside, before feeling around for her next paper. Hands feeling around the table, her fingers caught wind of some foreign material: curious, she reached both hands out to touch it, caressing the smooth, soft fabric, eyes still closed, body leaning closer as her hands trailed down the foreign object, and eventually held onto something warm and tender-

Grora opened her eyes to find herself looking right into the Head Angel's serene eyes, their faces so close to each other that she could feel his warm breath on her skin.

"!"

While a blush spread across her face and she flinched, she kept her startled expression in check as she struggled with an expression, conflicted over whether it was better to pretend it was intentional and not a stupid accident on her part, or whether it was better to retreat and say that she had just been teasing him. Before she could come to a conclusion, however, she felt a warm sensation on her lips, and upon coming out of her stupor, found Wodahs' lips upon hers, so absorbed in the kiss that he didn't notice Grora's cheeks turn scarlet.

"?!" Startled, she pulled back, and the Head Angel released her immediately upon realising her discomfort.

"I let myself be tempted. I apologise." Again, those same emotionless words. Truth to be told, while Grora's face was the epitome of annoyance and anger, a faint part of her secretly wished the Head Angel had been slightly more assertive, held the kiss just the slightest bit longer. But of course, she would never admit that.

"All I was trying to do was get used to life without my sight, and you do this to me? Idiotic Head Angel."

"I apologise." This was already the fourth time he had apologised to her in a day, and her anger began to build up. But then again... She could use this as an excuse to tease him, couldn't she? A smirk on her face, Grora closed up the gap between their bodies, gazing directly into the Head Angel's undisturbed eyes. "Well, shouldn't you do something then?"

She noted with satisfaction the slight discomfort that appeared for a split second in his eyes, but disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. "I don't quite understand what you mean," his quiet voice answered. Grora relished the slight intonation in his otherwise normal voice, and while slightly embarrassed, didn't show it as she pushed him slightly farther.

"What I mean, huh..." Placing her knee between his legs, she arched her neck contemptuously as she gazed down at him, her hand lifting his chin forcefully. Her smirk widened. "Make a guess?" Truth to be told, she had no idea what she wanted to request of him, simply making up words as she went along. But it did entertain her to put the Head Angel in such a tight spot: if he backed off, she could laugh at him for being a wimp, and if he made advances, she could denounce him as a pervert: it was a win-win situation!

What she hadn't counted on, though, was that the Head Angel was incredibly slow on the uptake.

"It would be easier for me to help you if you just said it explicitly." Unable to control her irritation anymore, Grora leaned down and stared straight into his eyes in annoyance. She would never understand how this idiot became the Head Angel. Taking a deep breath, Grora took advantage of the situation and dared herself to place her lips rather forcefully onto Wodahs'. Having never initiated a kiss before (and having lost her first kiss a few minutes prior), her inexperience showed in her clumsy manner, though she tried her best. Before letting go, she clamped her mouth onto his lower lip and bit viciously, leaving a small bruise on his otherwise pristine lips.

That's what people usually did with kisses... Right?

An awkward silence ensued as they stared at each other, neither of them backing down. Just as Grora was finally about to give up, however, she suddenly felt herself being pushed, her body falling backwards.

The next thing she knew, her wrists were pinned to the table over her head, her back resting on the cold marble surface. Before she could even comprehend the situation, she again felt the same warm sensation on her lips: this time, it was slightly more forceful as his tongue licked her lower lip, before she felt his tongue enter her mouth, causing her body to tremble with the new sensation. He ran over each and every one of her teeth slowly, making sure to leave his trace on every single one of them, before his tongue began to play with hers, caressing and teasing her seductively. "N... Ngh..." Grora couldn't help herself, letting out a small whimper, abashed by how she was being violated, yet unable to control her emotions.

By the time the Head Angel let go, Grora was already breathless, chest rising and falling in quick succession as she took quick, short breaths. "Ah, ah... S-stupid Head... Ah... Angel..." Gasping for breath, she could barely throw the insult at him, avoiding eye contact with him at all costs as she felt the heat on her cheeks.

Before she could say anymore, however, she discovered herself in total darkness. "?!" Flailing around in panic, her resistance was in vain as the Head Angel remained completely unaffected. Turning her head to the side in shame, she felt the Head Angel's lips brush against her as he murmured into her ear. "We'll see if you still have the composure to be an archer even in darkness."

Having had her eyesight taken away made her ears all the more sensitive, especially when she was able to feel his hot breath with each word uttered. Flinching, she bit on her lip, struggling not to make any embarrassing noises as she felt one of his hands caress her cheek, before running down her neck and feeling the curve of her slender frame, from the chest to the waist, before letting his fingers trail down to...

"H-Hey! He-Head Angel..." Her resolve weakening with each touch, Grora clenched her teeth, trying not to lose her composure as Wodahs' fingers traced her leisurely. Thrashing about, she didn't even care that she had accidentally slapped the Head Angel, but he clearly did, as she felt him pause, before withdrawing his hands.

"...?" But she didn't have long to wait. In the next moment she felt one of her hair ribbons being loosened, before something encircled both of her wrists, tightly binding them together. No matter how Grora tried to wrestle them apart, even her abundant strength as an archer couldn't break herself free. It seemed like she had been rendered completely helpless, and she uncontrollably shivered. Was it from excitement or fear?

She didn't know anymore.

* * *

As a god, Etihw was all-knowing. Hence, even though it was rather embarrassing to admit it, she knew exactly what was going on somewhere else that involved the Head Angel and his most favoured partner, so favoured that he was making her his at this very point in time. Sighing, she closed her eyes.

Enjoy yourself while you can, Wodahs.

**Very soon, you won't have such a chance again.**

* * *

In the aftermath of the spell, a lone angel staggered to his feet. The magic that Kcalb had released had been intense, crimson red dyeing every inch of the fallen sky and barren earths. Running along a trail of wilted shrubs, Wodahs ignored the bloodied corpses, flying swiftly over them, so swiftly that the gust from his wings made ashes return to life for just a moment.

But it was too late. By the time he found her, though, there was nothing he could do but fall to the ground in despair. Her petite body lay crumpled on the ground, clothes tattered and torn as her eye still reflected the terror and fear she must have felt upon her death. Just like the rest of the world, she had been utterly destroyed, a flower wilting in the cold winter winds.

Tenderly reaching out his hands, he drew her towards himself. His white clothes turned red, but he shut his eyes tightly, trying to imagine for just a second longer that the cold object in his arms, that had yet to stiffen, had yet to fade away, was still the same girl who always fired shots behind him, bringing down anyone who tried to harm him; the same girl who sneaked into the kitchen and added sugar into his ochazuke secretly, because he didn't have time to add it himself; the same girl who had clung onto him in the middle of the night, her words faltering as her pink face was illuminated by the moonlight.

"Please don't leave me, Wodahs?"

_I won't._ From the corner of his eye, he saw the incoming darkness. The world was collapsing: soon enough, there would be nothing but oblivion, not even darkness. Simply... An empty space devoid of anything. Wodahs hugged her close to himself. At the very least... He could stay with her till the very end, disappear together with her as they faded into nothingness.

Wodahs shut his eyes as he felt the girl crumble away, leaving nothing in his hands. Keeping his eyes closed, he awaited his fate. But no matter how long he waited, his body refused to fade away. Slowly, he opened his eyes, but saw nothing, because there wasn't even darkness to be seen anymore. No, this was far worse, he was looking at the void in its entirety... And she wasn't here with him anymore.

_In the end... I couldn't fulfil my promise, huh._

A bitter laugh emitted from his lips, but no sound came out, for sound didn't exist in this world anymore. Burying his face in his hands, his gloves soon became wet with tears, the despair eminent in his eyes, for who was there left to see anyway?

_**"The world has ended."**_ Etihw stepped towards him as her strong, icy voice rang out.

There was still God.

God, who would exist for all of eternity, who could surpass the laws of physics, whose voice was still rich and whose light still shone bright even in this place of non-existence.

"The world has ended."

"Not just the world, but yours too."

"Everyone, everything has disappeared."

"There is no one left but you and I... And him."

"... ... ... ..."

"What will you do?" Unable to see his expression, she paused before continuing. "Will you help me to end the miserable life of the one who has done this?"

"... ... ... ..."

"... ... ... ..."

"Lady Etihw..."

Finally, Wodahs uttered two halting words.

"... ...?"

His next words were so soft that she could barely hear it. But she did, and her eyes widened. A silence ensued as Wodahs lifted his head to look up at her imploringly. They stood there, a tall, powerful god looking down at her most powerful vassal; a bloodied, bruised angel looking up at his omnipotent lord. Then Etihw closed her eyes.

"If that's what you wish."

"Head~ An~gel~!" A familiar, chirpy voice called him, distracting him from his work. Wodahs turned his head to look at Grora, whose hands were suspiciously placed behind her back.

"... Yes?" He instinctively leaned backwards as she came even closer to him, a smile that could mean nothing good on her face. The next thing he knew, she had stuffed something violently into his mouth: judging from the sweet, creamy taste, it was chocolate.

Another menacing smile appeared on Grora's face. "Head Angel~ You shouldn't always just eat ochazuke, you know."

"..." While Wodahs wasn't in the habit of eating sweet foods, the chocolate... Was indeed rather fragrant. Despite what Grora had said, it carried the slight flavour of ochazuke, and wasn't too bitter, nor too sweet. "Did you make this?"

"Huh? No way." Judging from the slight flush on her face though, he had probably hit the nail on the mark. Grora flicked open the sachet in her hand, about to pick out another lump of chocolate for herself, when she felt a warm sensation on her lips, and found Wodahs' lips upon hers, so absorbed in the kiss that he didn't notice Grora's cheeks turn scarlet.

"?!" Startled, she pulled back, and the Head Angel released her immediately upon realising her discomfort.

"I was just intending to share the chocolate with you. I apologise."

_... This was somewhat familiar._

Wodahs looked down at the angel under him. Even her wings were trembling, but she gritted her teeth, struggling not to cry out.

_Where had he seen this scene before?_

Whimpers escaped her mouth as he drew even closer. Her voice was unexpectedly feminine, even sweeter than the chocolate she had shared with him.

_Ah, yes..._

He had shared a similar moment with her before a long time ago.

Although... The current her was nothing more than a marionette.

After all... There was no one left but Etihw, Kcalb and himself.

**Even if tears of ecstasy rolled down her face, even if her breathes came in short, heavy gasps, even if she called his name over and over again in that melodious voice...**

.

.

.

**End.**


	3. Ochazuke

I am writing this while half-asleep I don't know shit about writing I failed Literature I failed English I am a joke

I was also informed that I should try to write fluff.

Warning: I'm not really sure why but I suck at writing fluff.

* * *

**#3: Ochazuke**

"Ochazuke, or me." Those were the words that were uttered to Wodahs as her slender hands slammed onto the table. His spoon lingering in midair, Wodahs lifted his head to look at the cheerful, yet menacing smirk on Grora's face.

Taking another bite of his ochazuke, Wodahs met her gaze head-on. "I don't quite understand what you mean." Grora's eyes narrowed as the smile on her face grew wider.

"I said," she repeated, articulating each word loudly and clearly, "Ochazuke, or me."

The reply was the sound of the spoon clattering against an empty bowl.

* * *

A few days had passed since Grora's cryptic message.

As usual, Wodahs sat at his desk, whizzing through sheet after sheet of proposals, reports, drafts. It was second nature to him, scanning each paper for errors and inconsistencies, leaving the cursive signature on the bottom right of the paper, putting it aside to pick up another. The only thing different was that his partner wasn't here, complaining as she pulled out yet another piece of paperwork. Wodahs lowered his head, telling himself not to be distracted. It was rather mysterious, however, that she would ask him to choose between ochazuke or her doing her job: wasn't it already obvious what the answer would be? After all, she didn't even get much work done anyway, so it was perfectly fine that she had gone on strike.

The Head Angel continued doing his work without a single word, with only the sound of the pen on paper lightly breaking the empty silence. Truth to be told... He wasn't used to the quietness at all. Around this time, Grora would start grumbling about the heavy workload, asking him just how he managed it, at which Wodahs would answer that it was his job, and she would simply throw an insult at him (usually "stupid head angel", "no-lifer", "workaholic", "pathetic virgin", etc.)

That, or she would get bored and think up something to tease him with. The pranks she came up with varied measurably: once, she replaced everything with invisible ink and waited expectantly at the side to see how he would react to being unable to do his work. (Clearly, she had thought he would panic and cause chaos. What really happened, of course, was that she was immediately caught and punished.)

There was also the time that she replaced all his clothes with girly outfits, such as a maid dress (with complimentary bell and cat ears), a frilly gothic lolita dress, a bunny girl outfit... How she had gotten into his room, he would never know. Where she had gotten all those clothes, he would also never know. Either way, he caught her almost instantly (again), that incident ending with Grora having to hide her face as visitors to the castle questioned just who that familiar-looking cute maid was.

The list could go on and on, but Wodahs had no interest in recapping everything that had happened for the past, what, 16 million years? It had been a very long time, after all: even though he remembered each and every one of them, it wasn't possible to ever finish recounting all of them. That, and he had work to do. Finishing off the sentence, Wodahs' lips parted slightly as he realised that the pen wasn't leaving any imprints. Pursing his lips, he put the pen to the paper and tried again, but regardless of the amount of pressure he used, the ink refused to flow and stain the paper with his signature. Sighing quietly, Wodahs capped the pen as he turned to his right.

"Could you..." His words trailed off as he spoke to the empty chair. Unlike its usual state of being cluttered with papers all over the place, that portion of the table was completely empty, completely clean, completely lacking the girl who was always sprawled on the table, giving him a resigned look as she threw insults at him. He was so used to her presence, her reluctant help, her unproductive actions, that he had completely forgotten that she hadn't been here for the past few days.

"... ..."

The Head Angel really couldn't understand it. Just why had she asked him to choose between her and ochazuke? He loved ochazuke, there was no denying that. While he appreciated her help, it wasn't particularly useful in any way, and she herself knew that. But what exactly did she hope to achieve by getting him to choose? Or, maybe...

She wasn't asking him about her work attitude, but her as a person? Admittedly, Wodahs didn't pay much attention to anyone, mostly spending his time doing what he was told. From what he could gather of her from the past billions of years though, she... Was a very headstrong girl. She liked to wear her hair in two ponytails, as if trying to remind everyone that despite her immense strength, she was still a girl at heart. Her eyes... Could be considered very pretty, but despite her age, she was shorter than most people, standing at a height of 150cm. She hadn't grown for the past forty thousand million, ninety eight hundred thousand, twenty two hundred and seventy six years. He knew it, because she had come running to him with a smirk on her face as she declared that she would someday catch up.

Yes, that smirk. Always having her trademark smirk plastered on her face... Even Wodahs himself wasn't sure if she was truly happy, or if she was hiding her feelings better than anyone. Despite her outgoing manner, Grora... Had never actually talked much about herself. Sure, she was vocal about the things that made her annoyed or displeased, but he still didn't know just what made her happy, or why she always got angry when he did overtime, or why she...

Had always looked at him with different eyes.

It wasn't difficult to notice. When she spoke to others, her eyes always retained that serene, arrogant expression, one that was devoid of passion, as if everything was just a boring toy she had already played with before. But even after so many years, she still looked at him with the same eyes, the gaze that looked slightly different from the one she gave others, and while her mouth always bitterly spat out the same foul words, looking into her eyes, he felt like there was something she wasn't saying. Indeed, it was that look that always ended up making Grora's attempts fail, because her gaze always made him feel like her teasing wasn't all that annoying, wasn't bothersome in the least, which was why he never reacted violently to it.

He himself couldn't understand it either, just why he thought about her so much. Wanting to understand the expression in her remaining eye, wanting to make her reveal her true smile, wanting to know what she was really thinking... But then again, he reasoned, they were quite similar in many aspects, so it wasn't altogether strange to want to know her better.

Although... He felt like there was something more. A kind of fluffy, light feeling, as if she was a small, pulsating light and he was a moth drawn to her flame...

—The door slammed open, and Wodahs turned his head just in time to see the door fall onto the ground after having been ripped off its hinges by the heel of a petite foot. Her face still wore her trademark smirk as she strode in, her two ponytails dancing behind her slender, doll-like figure. Smile unfaltering, she halted beside him.

"Figured you'd need help." A hand was thrust into his face, and Wodahs could smell the rich aroma of coffee as he saw her other hand put down a case of writing materials. Slightly dazed, he unconsciously lifted his hands to cup the warm mug, the steam warming his face which felt slightly cold, now that he thought about it. Lowering his head, he took a sip.

"... ..."

"... ... What."

"It's tasteless."

Even without lifting his head, he could sense her bristling with frustration, the smile plastered on her face rather forced. "You're welcome," she nearly spat out. The Head Angel looked up, his eye meeting her defiant eye.

"... ..."

"... ..."

Grora fell back into her chair, slinging an arm over the back as she picked up a blue pen, twirling it with her thumb and index finger. They continued doing their work in silence, this time with the sound of two pens scribbling as they worked in synchronicity. Unconsciously taking another sip of the bland coffee, Wodahs heard her muffled voice, looking up to see her sprawled on the table as usual, her remaining eye looking bored as usual, but with a little flicker of curiosity as she stretched, chatting him up to pass time.

"Hey, Head Angel."

"... ...?"

"Ochazuke, or coffee?"

"... ..."

"... ...?"

"... ..." Standing up, he walked closer, kneeling down before her before gazing directly at the increasingly discomforted angel.

"...?!"

But he ignored how she had stiffened up, holding her chin as he gently touched his lips to hers. Closing his eyes, even while he felt her face become hotter and hotter, he could fully feel how unusually soft her lips were, despite the harsh words she often uttered. Could this, perhaps, be her true self? A girl who always appeared strong and callous, but who, deep down, was simply a gentle, caring angel.

Finally, he let go, and was greeted by the angered glare of the flushing angel. But her curses were muffled as he pulled her onto his lap in an embrace, his hands holding onto her petite frame. Compared to him, her wings were rather small: it made him want to take care of the small, trembling angel. Running his fingers through her silky grey hair, Wodahs marvelled at how smooth it was, like water flowing gently in a stream, and her cold body made him hug her tighter, trying to give her some of his warmth.

Embarrassment was distinct in her voice. "Wh—What are you doing?! Let go of me! Stupid Head Angel!" But Wodahs didn't let go, instead hugging her even tighter, and he felt her hesitate slightly, before her tense body slackened a little as she hesitantly put her arms around him.

Ochazuke, or coffee?

How about neither?

After all, the sweetest one of all is you.

**End.**


	4. Ochazuke (Omakes)

It was supposed to be crack but idk why I can't write crack very well either so here is slightly angsty text I need to stop writing dark things why can I not write lighthearted things. Also 3.2 was a 3 minute work inspired by kimchi's review lololol

Warning: Alternate endings, reference to Yonaka, I was high on crack but I can't write crack, just.. what

* * *

**#3.1: Ochazuke (OMAKE)**

"Ochazuke, or me." Those were the words that were uttered to Wodahs as her slender hands slammed onto the table. Yet even though her words carried the strength she had cultivated as a merciless archer whose arrows rained like the descent of hail, tears rolled down her face, which was beginning to heat up with shame.

Seeing the blank expression on the Head Angel's face, she shook her head slightly, the warm teardrops dripping onto her clenched fists as she did so. "No, it doesn't really matter anymore, does it." Lowering her head, she averted her gaze, staring at the paperwork on the table as her tears began to flow uncontrollably. The signature on that paper, written by him with that same, beautiful cursive, in the black ink he favoured so much. But he had probably already forgotten that she had been the one who had bought it for him, a long, long time ago, a souvenir from the Sea of Tears.

Looking up, she saw with blurred eyesight his eyes widening as he saw her dismal face, but couldn't really be bothered anymore. "Hey, Head Angel." Croaking out those words, she despised herself for sounding so pathetic. "I'm... Leaving."

"I've... Become the ochazuke god." Wodahs' worried expression was immediately replaced by one of confusion, but her tears were falling too rapidly for her to see anything clearly anymore. Even as she said those words, her wings began to unfold, feathers dusting the ground as her body became shrouded in snow white light, her legs beginning to fade away.

"Soon enough, I'll have to ascend to our Heaven."

"I know a girl named Yonaka there, so I guess I'll be fine?"

"But..." The light had already consumed her calves, and she stepped closer to him with the remainder of her body, her hands reaching out to cup his face. Ah, it was... So warm. She held him like that for a moment, savouring the warmth of his soft, beautiful face, before closing her eyes and leaning in.

It was... A very long kiss.

By the time she let go, half of her torso had already vanished. "Hey, Head Angel?"

"I love you."

* * *

Yonaka munched on another slice of prosciutto as she sat beside Grora, who could barely hold in her laughter. "You know, that was a little too dramatic."

"Say what you want," Grora smirked, supporting her head with both hands as she swung her legs idly, looking with amusement at Wodahs' cheerless expression as he lifelessly gazed at the tombstone he had handcrafted for her. "I'm looking forward to seeing him cry."

A few weeks had already passed since then. Unfortunately, the Head Angel was an emotionless git who hadn't cried at all, though his face had gone considerably pale in her absence, his actions becoming more and more dead. Although, she supposed, it was nice that he had bothered to make a grave for her: she had watched as he carved the tombstone out of white diamond for her, painstakingly inscribed the words dedicated specially to her.

_In Memory of Alela Grora,_

_An ill-tempered 150cm tall angel_

_Who was the best archer across worlds_

_Who hated cats and liked teasing people_

_Who was dearly loved._

... While she hated the description he had written, the last line made up for everything, she supposed. It was a bad thing that she favoured him so much, letting him go for such things. If it were anyone else, she would simply have dug out their eyes before shooting them full of holes and pinning them onto the walls as a warning.

Perhaps she would go back soon? Honestly, it was getting boring eating prosciutto and ochazuke with Yonaka, and she... Kind of wanted to see the Head Angel again. It'd be interesting to see his reaction when she returned, and hopefully, he'd perhaps embrace her and give her a kis—What was she saying?! Just, just that she hoped he would be so glad to see her back, safe and sound, just as much as she missed him and wanted to see him. Perhaps this time, she would put slightly more sugar when she brought him coffee to keep him awake during work. Or perhaps, she could use certain other means to keep him awake? A coy smile appeared on her face as she began thinking of new ways to tease him.

Perhaps this time she'd be able to make him some ochazuke too.

* * *

**#3.2: Ochazuke (OMAKE 2)**

Even though her face remained cold as ever, Froze's heart was dancing as she carried her bowl of frozen yogurt. Merrily skipping along, she had already started on the delectable delicacy, her spoon digging into the cold yogurt. Perhaps she would savour it as she did her paperwork? Yes, that was what she would do.

Opening the door to the staff room with a flourish, her eyes landed on the Head Angel pinning a furious Grora down onto the table, with papers strewn everywhere and their clothes half undone.

Her spoon fell with a clatter.

"... ..."

"... ..."

Froze closed the door.

* * *

**#3.3: Ochazuke (OMAKE 3) (can be continued from #3.2) **

"Stupid Head Angel!" Again, the angel struggled to break free of his grasp, but Wodahs ignored it as he leaned closer to her, intent on getting his job done. It slightly amused him how her eye widened in fear and terror as his hand came closer and closer, her body trembling violently as she realised the futility of the situation.

"Nn—don't do thi—stop plea—I—I'm begging you, Head Angel..." Her voice was becoming more and more teary as it took on a pleading tone.

But as the Head Angel, he couldn't give in so easily, after all? Besides, Grora was an angel lower than him, so he could do whatever he wanted with her, and she could do nothing. Tears were already rolling down her pale face, and Wodahs leaned over her face as he kissed away her tears, which tasted unusually sweet. Enjoying how panic-stricken she had become, a rare smile appeared sadistically on his face, as he forced open Grora's mouth, and stuffed it full of his...

Ochazuke made with love and adoration :D

.

.

"I—I hate you... I HATE YOU!"

* * *

A few days had passed since Grora's furious declaration.

As usual, Wodahs sat at his desk, but unlike usual, the sadistic smirk on his face was visible.

So what if she had run away from home? Even though Brother and Lady Etihw were rather concerned, but he knew that she'd come back eventually, like a moth drawn to a flame. After all, she couldn't leave him alone even if she wanted to.

* * *

_~Meanwhile in a land far far away~_

"And th—And then h—He made me eat ochazuke!" A bead of sweat rolled down Yonaka's temple as she awkwardly held onto the sobbing angel in an awkward embrace. Looking up into the clear sky full of stars, Yonaka closed her eyes resignedly.

Just... **Stop your bickering and get married for real already.**


	5. Eyes (Reverse)

I ought to update the next chapter of Seifuku soon.

Warning: Not very but still kinda gory, reversed version of #1, gets a little crack-y at the end

* * *

**#5: Eyes (Reverse)**

Recently, his eye had been noticing her more and more often.

A pair of grey, silky ponytails that swished behind her as she took quick, cool strides, her usual smirk on her face as she went about doing her work, arrows and bow always on the ready. And they had served her well, saving not only hers, but his life numerous times back in the day. Was that when he had first begun noticing her?

The petite angel, almost doll-like, but Wodahs knew better: he had seen countless demons fall to her nimble and lethal arrows. Even after that cat had taken her eye, she still did not fail to meet his expectations, and he had often been cornered, only to find that all his enemies had, in a split second, died of a fatal heart wound. More often than not, he had wondered if her arrows had pierced him as well, because he simply could not stop looking for her.

"What a pleasant surprise to see you here, Wodahs," he was brought back to reality by the voice of a certain white goddess. Swiftly turning his head away from the grey angel, he glanced at Etihw, who had a smile on her face.

"But if I were you I'd pay more attention," she continued mysteriously, "or the people you treasure will be stolen away from you."

And then she disappeared, leaving Wodahs to question just how much free time she had to spare. Shaking his head, he prepared to bring the paperwork back to the castle, but paused in mid-step as he sighted the small angel again.

Fury was evident in her eye as she glared down a terrified-looking white cat, chasing the feline with a barrage of arrows.

It was rare that Grora would wipe off that nonchalant smile and replace it with anything else. Sure, she liked to prank him, but she had never shown a face of delight, or a face of utter disappointment when he showed no response, instead maintaining that smirk as she flew off to go torture some other poor soul.

**Almost as if Ater had stolen her gaze along with her eye.**

The papers were crushed within Wodahs' tight grip.

* * *

Flicking the light switch up, the dark basement lit up as Wodahs' shoes clacked against the ground. Ignoring the no-longer white body of the red-soaked cat, he walked by. She was inconsequential now, having refused to tell him the location of the missing, grey eye so dearly missed by its owner. It was an simple feat to dispose of her, rather merciful, as a matter of fact.

Instead, he continued straight to his destination, to the small, struggling angel in the corner. Her small wings already messy with feathers ruffled and jutting out in awkward positions, she still retained that lazy smirk, despite knowing there was no escape, what with her legs and hands bound together tightly with black ribbons. Upon hearing him coming closer, she raised her head slightly, only being able to estimate where he was due to the blindfold over her eyes.

Her mouth opened slightly to deliver her contemptuous message. "I say, Head Angel... I didn't expect you to have this kind of sick fetish."

"... If you won't look at me..."

The Head Angel uttered as he halted right in front of her slightly trembling body, a steely glint in his eye as he watched her try to shift away in vain.

**"I'll make you look."**

* * *

**OMAKE.**

"I say, Head Angel... You're being creepy."

Hands clasped behind her back, Grora followed the Head Angel, who had requested for her to join him for a moment. There was no reply, however, and they walked on in silence, until they reached a flower garden. The flowers were in full bloom, carnations and lilies alike, their soft petals dancing in the wind. Even Grora felt her heart twinge at the beautiful sight, but didn't show it on her face.

"Grora..." Her attention was called away by the Head Angel, who was slowly walking closer to her. She backstepped as he stopped right in front of her, a little too close for comfort as he gazed down at her with that same, cold look.

"... What?" The Head Angel was being strange today. That thought was amplified by him kneeling down in front of her and presenting to her a small, white box. He opened the box to reveal a dark grey eye lying comfortably on a black cushion.

"Will you marry me?"

"?!"

True, she had wanted her eye back, but she hadn't expected it to come back to her **THIS WAY!**

Casting her eyes downwards to stare at the earnest expression on the Head Angel's face, Grora's lips parted hesitantly. "I..." She was interrupted, however, by a loud whisper.

"say yes say yes say yes say yes" **"shut up i think she heard you"**

Looking up, Grora's eyes narrowed as she flushed. Not only were Lord Kcalb and Lady Etihw peeking from the flowerbed, the entire Gray Village community was waiting expectantly for her answer as well. As if sensing the murderous aura around her, they all gave her a quick, nervous grin, before hurriedly making a run for it.

"HEY! DID I SAY YOU COULD RUN?!"

And so, the Head Angel remained kneeling there, a slightly disappointed look on his face as he watched his beloved bathe in the blood of her fallen victims, completely forgetting about him. _After he had gone to the trouble of torturing and killing that white cat to find her eye for her, as well..._

* * *

**OMAKE x2.**

"Hey, Head Angel."

"...?"

Grora knelt before him as she presented to him a small, black box, opening it to reveal a light grey eye lying comfortably on a white cushion.

"Marry me."

.

.

Etihw and Kcalb would never get tired of laughing at Wodahs for being the uke in the relationship.

**End.**


	6. Crimson-Eyed Lark

I'm not sure what I wanted to accomplish with this piece but it's meant to be a oneshot I am not continuing this thing also I wrote this about like idk 2 months ago and I don't want to look at it again because I have a bad feeling my writing is even shittier than it is right now so I'm going to upload it you don't like it well who cares right not me (i may or may not be delirious right now)

Warnings: There is no frickle frackle but there is seme Grora, Wodahs is a n00b, demon Grora is my pride and joy, I'm not really sure what kind of AU this is but anyway Etihw and Kcalb are still fighting it out

* * *

**#6: Crimson-Eyed Lark**

Easily unbuckling his belt, Grora lowered her head, wine red eyes concealed under butterfly lashes.

Even though she hadn't done anything yet, the grey-haired angel before her had already tensed up, clenching his fists which had been rendered useless by a pair of handcuffs. His legs had similarly been suppressed by the girl on top of him, and a smirk appeared on Grora's face as she licked her lips in satisfaction. Despite the odds being against him, his icy cold eyes still challenged her.

How boring.

Reaching out a hand, Grora's fingers rested themselves on his chin as she violently jerked his head upwards. A slight flicker of pain streaked across his face, before he maintained the same emotionless facade. She bent down, hands cupping his neck as she parted her lips and bit, savouring the soft texture as she voraciously bit him again and again. By the time her hands let go, the originally pale skin had turned red from the marks she had left. But there was still no reaction. She arched her neck, unsatisfied, positioning her head over his ear. Grora could hear his light breathing, slightly quickened due to her assault, and she nipped his ear, tongue running over the curve of his earlobe, before seductively murmuring into his ear.

"I wonder if you'll be able to keep this up?" With satisfaction, she felt his body shudder slightly from the proximity, and drew her face away from his ear, instead placing her face directly in front of his, watching with amusement as her smile widened.

Cupping his face, she leaned in, planting her lips directly onto his, savouring the warmth of his soft lips as she softly nibbled on his bottom lip, before running her tongue between his lips, forcing him to open up to her advances. She caressed his face as her tongue slid into his territory, invading his personal space. While she felt the temperature of his face go up, he still remained cold to her advances, and she increased the pressure with more forceful actions.

"... !"

To her surprise, she felt his tongue press onto hers, teasing and licking hers without restraint, and she found him dominating her, their tongues playing with each other as she fought vainly to control him, eventually giving in and succumbing to his assault.

"Ngh... ... Haaa, haaa..."

When she finally withdrew, a strand of saliva still connected their mouths as they both gasped for breath, trying to appear unaffected by the sensual kiss, but Grora could see the faint blush on the angel's face despite his similarly cold eyes. Eyes narrowed, she arched her neck haughtily as she placed a finger on his unsmiling lips.

"Hmm~ Aren't you slightly too corrupt to be an angel?"

Gazing into his eyes with a smirk, she drew closer, feeling his hot breath on her face. "By the time I'm done, you'll be cowering under me, Head Angel."

"We'll see."

It was the first time she had heard him say anything, and the defiance in his handsome, deep voice only made her shiver in pleasure. Just as she was about to go in for another attack, she heard the sound of the door creaking open, turning her head idly to see who had disrupted her from playing with her toy.

Arms crossed, the Demon King raised his eyebrows at the sight before him. "Grora... I only ordered you to capture him."

She pouted, the hand grabbing his clothes tightening, causing him to let out a small cry of pain. "Come on now, don't I deserve a reward? I was just having some fun teasing him." Looking at Lord Kcalb's exasperated face, she knew he couldn't come up with a counterargument, a victorious grin on her face.

"Either way, just stop what you're doing," he finally ordered, twirling a strand of hair around his finger awkwardly. She was about to retort, but was cut off by the stern glare he directed at her.

"...Eh, fine then~"

Turning back to the angel who was still breathing rather heavily, she whispered in his ear, "I'll come back for you later, so don't forget about me, hmm?" Then she released him, getting to her feet, hands on her hips as she faced Kcalb. "Better?" Inwardly, she sighed in disappointment. She had wanted to do so much more with that cute angel...

"I have another mission for you, Crimson-Eyed Lark." Those words weren't foreign to her, but it did give the angel a start.

"The Crimson-Eyed Lark?!" It made Grora rather disappointed that he was reacting much more violently than when she had touched him. "This girl is the Crimson-Eyed Lark?" His voice dripped with disbelief.

"That's right," Kcalb's voice rang out as Grora lowered her head. That name had always embarrassed her, but she didn't have the choice of rejecting it. On the battlefield, it was rumoured that Kcalb favoured an assassin, a red-eyed demon who could shoot down anything he so desired. As long as you had been targeted, even if you flew to the ends of the world, there was no escape from the arrows that would eventually find you. Eyes that could sight the movement of an ant and hearing that picked up even the drop of a needle, they'd excitedly gossip.

But he was so nimble, so swift that he evaded the eyes of anyone, and no one had ever seen him before. The ones who were lucky enough to glimpse his silhouette by moonlight described him as having an unexplainable fatal allure, their eyes bound to him as if by witchcraft until an arrow intercepting their gaze and permanently blinded them. This was why they called this demon the Crimson-Eyed Lark of the Witching Night.

"How unexpected... So the Lark is a girl..." The angel seemed to be deep in thought.

"Indeed, I have to thank her for many successful endeavours, including successfully capturing you." Having finished addressing him, Kcalb turned back to the girl, who stood awaiting his next command. But Kcalb glanced back at the chained angel. Who knew for sure what he could do if he knew about Grora's next mission? He couldn't allow that.

"... Let's take this conversation outside," Kcalb muttered. Grora nodded her head, turning back to glance at the angel, before they left him alone to his thoughts.

**END.**


	7. Siblings

Meep I wrote this at 3am in the morning so heck if I know what I'm doing.

Warnings: Daily life thing, angst (?), no one likes Wodahs, Grora my bby, I have a bad feeling that I made Wodahs too kind

* * *

**#7: Siblings**

Shifting slightly, Grora rubbed her blurry eyes, yawning as she stretched. It was time for a another day of work at the castle.

Initially, Grora had simply slept in random trees: the fragrance of fresh, green leaves had always been one of her favourite scents, and it covered her own scnt easily, with the vantage point being useful for spotting anyone who might have been lurking around suspiciously. Not that it had any practicaly use now, but it was a habit she had cultivated from back when she served as an archer in the war, and since Lady Etihw had forgotten to assign her a room in the castle and she had no house, why not, right?

That was until the Head Angel, sharp as he was, had somehow caught on, and found her sleeping in yet another apple tree, It had been slightly unnerving to sense a presence strangely close to her, and Grora had nearly fallen out of the tree when she opened her eyes to find him staring straight into her face. After that incident, he had insisted she stay in one of the spare rooms in the castle, and while Grora didn't dislike the cleanliness of the elegant room, she still missed her humble abode slightly.

But the room had been tediously prepared for her by the Head Angel, so how could she refuse?

Nimbly changing into hr usual grey coat and white dress, Grora took a quick glance into the mirror. While she rarely cared about petty things like her appearance, the Head Angel would surely be mad if her uniform was untidy. Tucking a silky strand of hair behind her ear, Grora then set out in rather high spirits.

"Hey, Grora!" As she headed down the corridor, someone called her, and she turned to see one of the demons who worked in the library. "Head Angel wanted me to pass a message. Apparently Lady Etihw's out of it so you guys'll just be eatin' alone today. Meet him at the throne room for breakfast." Nodding in thanks, Grora uttered "much obliged" curtly, before taking a right turn as she headed for the room.

She was again, however, stopped by the voice of another person. "Ms. Grora!" Slightly peeved, Grora turned around, this time to face an angel who was panting slightly as he held onto a stack of paperwork. "Have you seen the Head Angel?"

A flicker of annoyance streaked past her face as she shook her head derisively. Why did everyone have the impression that she would know where he was? It wasn't like she was his babysitter, or companion, or l-lover or anything... "Whatever makes you think I'd know?" Sighing slightly, Grora crossed her arms, raising her eyebrows, a contemptuous look on her face.

"Oh, nothing, it's just that you're almost like his little sister and all..." Instantly, the angel realised his folly as her expression darkened, the smile on her face becoming rather forced and she stepped forward menacingly. "I-I'm sorry Ms. Grora! Please forgive my impudence!" Terrified, the angel backstepped, wings trembling visibly.

"How about you put the papers in the staffroom," Grora's shark-like smile didn't falter, instead widening even more, "and I'll be sure to tell him about it."

"Y-yes, ma'am!" Watching as the angel fled, Grora sighed again, a look of resent in her eyes. How she hated it when people simply assumed they were siblings. They weren't related by blood, not in the least.

As she threw open the door, Grora found that there was no one at the far end of the room, where a grey table floated gently beside two seats, one black and one white. Strange... The demon **had** said it was the throne room, yes? The Head Angel was rarely late. She knew that from years and years of experience. Having always been there by his side, even as they practiced their fighting tactics, even as they battled Rieta, even as they both lay dying, she still remembered the concern in the Head Angel's voice as he told her not to follow him. Naturally, she had refused: who would be stupid enough to let him go on a suicide mission? So she had stubbornly stood up, amidst his resigned sighs, and they had went to confront Ivlis with the others.

But she was deviating. The simple fact was that the Head Angel was rarely late, and she was beginning to get worried. The last time he had been late had also been the time that he returned by dropping onto her head, his clothes in tatters as blood seeped out of the numerous wounds inflicted on his body. Even Grora, who was usually apathetic to the suffering of others, had felt her breath hitch as she tenderly gazed upon the unconscious him while in his room.

Shaking away the lump in her throat, Grora turned heel as she strode out of the room, glancing to her left as she did so. Perhaps the Head Angel was still in his room for some reason? Stepping in front of the door, Grora's hand turned the knob slightly as she pushed open the door...

To find Etihw kneeling beside an all-too-familiar coffin as she knocked on it relentlessly. At the creak of the door, she had looked up, and as if sensing Grora's confusion, she cheerfully answered. "Oh, no, I'm not actually sick, it's just that I was rather curious about trying something out with Kcalb..."

At which, a muffled, but clearly embarrassed voice emanated from within the wooden box. "I'm, not, doing, it!"

"You guys have fun." Sensing that her arrival was rather untimely, Grora raised her eyebrows as she turned to leave, but was stopped by the words the goddess directed at her. "It'd be better if you just gave up now, Grora."

She stiffened, stopping right in front of the doorframe. Without turning around, she lowered her head, her bangs brushing against her cheeks as she responded icily. "I don't know what you're talking about." Her words were slurred together, as if her tongue had rolled over them too quickly for her to say it properly.

From behind, she heard a sigh. "You already know, don't you? Little sister." At this, Grora didn't even bother to be courteous anymore, striding straight out of the room. She could vaguely hear a creak, before someone questioned, "What in the world was that abou—" But the voice was cut off as Grora lifted a foot, swinging it backwards and slamming the door shut with it.

When she entered the throne room again, Wodahs was there, sitting on the black chair that Kcalb usually occupied. Despite Etihw's words, Grora felt her spirits lift at the sight of the Head Angel patiently awaiting her arrival, his hands on his lap, and she stepped towards the table with quick, short strides.

"Thought you got beat up again or something." As soon as she reached him, Grora delivered the playful line casually, as if it were a daily occurence. No, fact was, it **was** a daily occurence. But Wodahs was already immune to it thanks to the sheer frequency of him hearing such words, and he ruffled her hair as he let out a rare, gentle smile.

"Yes, yes. Now eat your breakfast before it gets cold," he cautioned, directing her to the chair. It seemed that he had even specially put extra pillows on the white chair, as if he had already known that she was far too short to reach the table without that extra height. "Oh, but be careful too, it's still rather hot and we wouldn't want you to scald your tongue," he added as she lowered her head, staring at the surface of the ochazuke rather disdainfully.

She waved a hand derisively. "I've got this, Head Angel," she complained, a faint blush on her cheeks. "You don't need to worry about me." Indeed, the more he did this, the more her heart leapt at the sheer amount of care and concern he was showering her with, even though, at the same time, her heart sank more and more.

Bowing his head slightly in an apologetic manner, Wodahs sat in silence as they both watched the steam rise from the hot soup. Idly twirling her hair, it took Grora some time to realise that the Head Angel was gazing rather fixedly at her. "What d'ya want." Her voice had a tinge of embarrassment as she turned her head away rather childishly.

The Head Angel shook his head. "Nothing. Simply that your birthday is coming up, and I was wondering what would be a good present for you." Grora's eyes instantly glimmered as her mind overflowed with things she would want, but she struggled to maintain her professionalism. "Is that so? How unusually kind." The sinking feeling she was getting was only getting worse and worse, and she almost couldn't breathe anymore.

By this time, the ochazuke had cooled slightly, and they simultaneously clapped their hands together, chanting the usual line of "itadakimasu" before picking up their utensils. Pausing for a while to glance at the Head Angel, Grora found him joyfully digging into the food he loved so much, her eyes flickering with dejection as she lifted the spoon monotonously, eating a mouthful absent-mindedly.

It was delicious.

As she took bite after bite of Wodahs' handmade ochazuke, tears unconsciously began to trickle down the sides of her face. Yes, this was how things should be. The gentle and kind him caring for her relentlessly, softly patting her head in reassurance, making sure her welfare was taken care of. The cutely stubborn her being an uncooperative child, enjoying his food happily, feeling blessed for having someone like him to watch over her.

But the tears wouldn't stop falling.

She could still see through blurred eyes as the Head Angel, as if sensing something was wrong, looked up, his eyes widening at the sight before him. "Is it too bitter?" He asked as he whipped out a packet of sugar from his pocket, concern evident in his soft voice. Even though it had been asked with good intentions, the intensity of her hot tears only increased, rolling down her cheeks furiously as she shook her head violently, the tears falling not only onto the grey coat, but the smooth, ivory floor as well.

The tears wouldn't stop falling.

Even as Wodahs stood up and came over, embracing her gently as he rubbed her head, the tears wouldn't stop. They only intensified again as Grora resisted the urge to lift her arms and cling onto him as well, resisted the urge to scream and rant and cry it all out to the angel she loved most.

I love you, Head Angel.

But no matter how mature she tried to act, his eyes would only see that small, petite angel furiously looking up at him, childishly declaring that she would someday outgrow him. No matter how strong she appeared to be, the Head Angel would still display surprise at how she could be so merciless despite how innocent she appeared to be. No matter how much she shadowed him, he would only see it as her attempt to become more like an adult, her attempt to protect him even though she was the fragile one.

Was it a curse, or a blessing? True, this meant that she could be as close to him as she wanted, because he loved her dearly as well. Even if she snuggled up next to him, he'd be fine with it thanks to the nature of his love for her. But it hurt so much to know that the feelings she harboured for him could never be reciprocated, because it was just so clear that he didn't think of her in that way even though he showered her with care and concern. It hurt to know that every time he thought about her, it wouldn't be with the same passion and intensity as with her. It was just him worrying over Grora as a brother would.

No matter what she did, he would never see her as anything more than his beloved little sister.

I love you, Wodahs.

The tears wouldn't stop falling.

The tears wouldn't stop falling.

* * *

"Ms. Grora!" The small angel didn't have enough strength to even turn around and face the angel who was panting slightly as he held onto a stack of paperwork. "Have you seen the Head Angel?"

Shaking her head jerkily, she heard the angel sigh. "Oh, that's a pity. I just thought that you of all people would know, since you're almost like his little sister and all..." The angel's words trailed off as he abruptly remembered the incident that had happened in the morning, his wings beginning to shiver violently again as he realised his mistake. "I-I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to..." His words trailed off as he saw her head shaking clumsily again.

"It's alright." He could have sworn that he had heard her muffled voice break as she uttered those two words disjointedly, but the relief of knowing he wasn't going to get killed was more than enough. "W-well then, I'll be going to put these in the staffroom then! Please tell him for me!" And with that, the angel turned heel and ran off cheerily.

Grora stood motionless, the tears still welling up in her eyes as a lump rose in her throat. Struggling not to sob, her face twitched as she bit her lip, swaying from side to side as she staggered forward.

The tears wouldn't stop falling.

**END.**


	8. Fairy Tale (1)

I'm going to shift this over to here because I am a horrible person who can't bring herself to continue fanfics hopefully I will remember to come back and finish this but I have a bad feeling

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With a sky as red as the deepest crimson blood, the earth was barren and cracked, weary of the arduous war that had raged for more than the infinite grasps of eternity could comprehend. Despite the innumerable tears that had been shed with the agonised passings of hundreds of soldiers, despite the weariness each soldier carried in their eyes and the resignment with which blood splattered on their figures, despite the broken scars the battle had inflicted on the very world itself, the war continued, neither side gaining the upper hand.

From the spire of an ivory tower, a feminine hand gracefully drew an arrow from her barrel, her right hand elegantly poised with the bow in her grasp as she loaded the silvery arrow, a beautiful melody drifting from her lips as her enchantment took hold and shrouded the arrow in a brilliant white aura. And with a light flick of her hand, a hundred demons died under the shimmering hailstorm, their bodies falling like the pitter patter of heavy rain as a thousand arrows littered the ground before they vanished but for the shaft of a single, silver arrow.

Gazing down at the sea of red before her, Alela Grora closed her eyes, a tiny bead of water reminiscent on her dark eyelashes as she paused to listen to the furious barrage of arrows being fired by her companions, before revealing the resentment and disdain in her icy grey eyes as she prepared for her next shot. Pressing her feathery wings close to her frame, she shifted slightly to the right, her sharp eyes still focused on the battleground from her vantage point. But her eyes widened in surprise as her sight fell onto a regal figure, his green hair clearly visible with her hawk-like eyes.

At the very front of the invading forces was the demon Yosaflame, his ebony black sword ablaze with flames of many hues, the fire dancing with each slash of the blade as his hands sliced gracefully through the air, as if he was simply dancing a waltz. That was what he was renowned for, the beauty and elegance with which he controlled his flames and brutally incinerated the enemies in his past.

_But I've got you now._

Even though his movements were haphazard as he waltzed, evading the blows of angels as he casually set them alight, drowning in the music of the terrified, anguished screams, Grora wasn't Lady Etihw's most favoured precision archer for naught. There was a very good reason why she was the leader of an elite squad made up of only the best archers, a very good reason why her small but lethal squad of six had been positioned upon those tower tops to support the frontlines.

As the demon paused for just the slightest second, her hand jolted violently as his red eyes met hers, even from such a great distance, as his lips curved upwards into an icy smile. She narrowed her eyes as her lips uttered a different hymn, letting the glow of the arrow fade as she cast a different charm. Something wasn't right, that person down there—

Her eyes dilated as the short tune she had sung dissipated the illusion, but it was too late. There was the silvery sound slicing through the air, followed by a series of terror-filled screams.

Without hesitation, she raised her bow and fired an arrow in the direction of the first scream. As expected, there was an agonised scream as a demon fell onto the tiles, eyes still wide open as it stared at the arrow piercing his heart. Looking for the archer on that tower, she found nothing but the sight of him lying in a pool of red, his eyes vacant but for the lingering fear from the mere seconds ago when he had been breathing.

There was no time to lose, though. Picking up the whistling sound of a blade cutting the air with her keen ears, she darted forward, feeling the breeze as the sword missed her, spinning around as she released another arrow: the wind blessed her attack as it carried the arrow forward, piercing the very heart of the demon, who cried and fell to the floor.

A quick glance around told her that there were quite a few more demons, but no matter which direction she turned her head in, it was all the same: Rosemary, Helios, Dea, they were all in a similar state. And standing in their places were demons, the same cruel smile on each and every one of their faces.

Bracing herself as all of them dashed towards the last remaining survivor of the elite precision squad, Grora darted backwards as a sword narrowly missed her throat, dancing to the left and bending down as another two swords attempted to touch her. Skipping back to the right, her left hand whipped out the spare dagger she kept strapped to her thigh, slashing at the demon in front of her, waltzing away even before the demon could fall to the ground with a thud.

It was only natural enough that an Exousia like her found the feeling of blood staining her coat to be a blissful sensation: as a warrior angel of power and defence, she was made for nothing more than fighting, nothing more than to feel the wind against her wings, nothing more than to hear the screams of her dying victims as their blood stained her white dress.

It felt wonderful.

With her bow being useless at such close range, her dagger did a fine job of leaving scars across her enemies as she waltzed and whirled. It wasn't enough, though: even though she had been trained in close combat, her primary choice of weapon was still the bow carved from yew, and it was this weapon that she picked up as she hurled the dagger, causing another demon to fall to the ground.

With a single leap, she spread her elliptical wings; with a single beat, took to the skies. The cool breeze blew against the wound on her cheek, her cape billowing behind her as the quick burst of speed drew the wind. Her wing type didn't allow for a longer burst of speed, but this was enough: the distance between her and the demons had already increased considerably, with her being far above them, the only one in the entire battlefield so far away from the ground.

Gazing down at the demons struggling to catch up, Grora lowered her eyes as her mouth began to form the words of her song.

_"Beloved light, bestow power unto this weak heart, cleanse everything with thy divine power..."_

The silver arrow began to glow in her hand even before she loaded it, gaining a majestic golden light as a cold smile appeared on her face, as she pointed the bow directly upwards into the sky, as the remaining words spilled from her lips, bathing even her in a golden light which dripped like the waters of a fountain.

_"Sing and resound with me, let my emotions melt into the world!"_

The arrow dissolved into the sky upon release, a golden ripple echoing across the entire field. The confused expressions on the demons' faces were soon wiped away, replaced by looks of terrors as the sky was filled with innumerable arrows, their shafts glowing bright, light flooding the crimson sky as the holy arrows became swords of justice that eliminated those in its path, raining down onto the battlefield like sunlight, vanquishing pitch-black hearts with the glory of blessings.

It was with cold eyes that Grora watched as the demons chasing her fumbled to escape. But from the moment they had targeted her, they had already been ensnared. Did they truly think she hadn't already had a backup plan for such an occasion?

Even before they could extend their leathery wings, the arrows had already pierced them, their bodies marked by a barrage of arrows that burned them with a pulsating intensity as it did so. They screamed as the purity of the blessed arrows corroded their skin, turning to ash and being swept away by the wind even before they could fall to the ground.

With such powerful magic and potent archery, it was no wonder that she was considered a dangerous player.

But the moment the tip of her shoe touched the spire, her eyes narrowed as she felt a gust of wind behind her and the sharp tip of a sword against her neck. "Don't move," the cold voice uttered, pressing the blade even harder against her when Grora tried to raise her bow, blood beginning to seep and trickle onto the sword.

No wonder she hadn't seen him till now.

Hearing his shoes clack against the marble floor as he continued holding the sword to her, Grora maintained her unfazed manner, a contemptuous look on her face even though she didn't dare to budge even the slightest, didn't dare to open her mouth in fear of letting out an unwanted growl.

From the corner of her eye, she could glimpse him as he circled her idly: her feathers bristled as the cool blade traced her wingspan, before settling in front of her throat as he stood right in front of her. During that entire span of time, Grora had stayed as still as the glassy surface of an undisturbed lake, more refined than the finest of silken satin as she regarded the green-haired demon with disdain in her eyes.

"I have to admit, you're quite good, being able to see through that." Even though he was right in front of her, Yosaflame still had to tilt his head all the way down to meet the heated stare of the angel. Arching her neck scornfully, Grora raised her eyebrows as she stared straight back at him, the hatred evident in the words that she spit out at him.

"I should be the one saying that." Indeed, she hadn't expected them to have located her squad so easily, although, gnashing her teeth together, she supposed that she should have expected the demons to have targeted them. Sure, her self-defence plan had worked, but her comrades had been murdered before she even realised anything...

So much for being an elite archer.

But now, her main priority was thinking of a way to escape. Thinking furiously, she eliminated ideas that would certainly invite her instant death. Straight out trying to stab him wouldn't work, he was clearly more proficient than her in close combat. But she couldn't increase her proximity as well, regardless of if she spread her wings or sprinted away, he would surely reach her before she could even try. It wasn't even possible to evoke a spell now that he could see every word she uttered... In other words, she was trapped.

... Although, there was always that possibility...

Grora lifted her head, glaring directly into her foe's red eyes. "Why don't you kill me already then?" Under such circumstance, it was probably best not to try her luck, but her gut feeling told her that he had spared her up till now for a good reason, and he wouldn't be killing her just yet.

As predicted, the taunt didn't trigger him to simply lop off her head. Instead, his eyes narrowed at the haughty words being emanated from such a small angel, but he chose not to take up the challenge she had posed. "Lord Kcalb wishes to know where your lady is," he finally answered with authority, lifting her chin as he raised the sword slightly.

Grora flinched at the name of Lady Etihw's archenemy, but her heart skipped with hope. So they didn't know where she was now, thought that she knew where Lady Etihw was? Silently thanking the fact that she was considered an elite player, Grora pursed her lips, a smirk appearing as she played along, pretending that her authority gave her the benefit of that knowledge.

"I don't know... How sure can I be that you'll spare me after I tell you?"

If the Head Angel was here, he'd probably cuff her for lacking what he termed as "honour", but Grora had always preferred the sly path of deceit. Dragging the syllables, Grora toyed with her bangs, enjoying the increasingly frustrated look on his face, like a dog craving to eat but restrained by his master.

"You can't. I'll kill you either way."

As expected, a blunt and crude answer. But Grora already knew everything she needed to know, from his straightforward manner, from the honour he still upheld, from his loyalty to his lord. This was nothing more than her testing the wind direction, checking the distance to the target, evaluating the size of the target. And it was almost time for her to let loose the arrow.

"Well, I might as well be worth your time while I'm at it," she sighed, shaking her head sadly as she watched the barely-concealed excitement on his face. Like a baited fish. "Yes?" He prompted, the anticipation in his voice unable to be hidden.

"My lady, she's a very kind individual, so even though she's so very important, she decided, just for today, to assist in protecting..." At this, she trailed off, hesitation in her voice. "No, no no, I can't tell you about that, Lady Etihw would surely be furious..." The demon leaned in closer, his eyes blazing with curiosity and excitement.

Again, she opened her mouth slowly, touching her lips with her right hand. "Well, I'm not saying it's an important object or anything, but..." And again, her words trailed off, her eyes flickering left and right. As if realising no one was there, she sighed as she tilted her head to the side, eyes filled with doubt as she uttered, "Come closer?"

Unable to control his need for knowledge, Yosaflame bent down, turning his head away from her so that his ear could better hear her. Her lips curved upwards as her eyes flickered with amusement.

"?!" Instantly, Yosaflame realised her true intentions, backstepping as blood began to gush out of the wound in his gut. With eyes of fury, he gripped his sword in both hands, lifting it as he glared at the dagger she had been concealing in her left hand, glared at the bloodstained, smirking angel as he brought his sword down—

And met a white blade, and icy grey eyes.

As soon as the Head Angel's sword clashed with the demon's, Grora had turned, and now she extended her wings as she threw herself off the tower, the momentum giving her wings strength to glide as she heard the silvery sounds of their swords clashing repeatedly.

Everything had gone according to plan. As she had predicted, the Head Angel had arrived to check on them when the arrows had ceased, being the worrywart that he was. Grora would never have dared to draw her dagger if she hadn't already known that Wodahs would never leave her squad in the lurch, hadn't already sighted Wodahs swooping down onto the spire behind the demon, his usually stoic eyes tinted with a glint of fury as he silently unsheathed his swords, completely forgoing his usual choice of the merciful staff.

But there was no time to think. Beating her wings, she gained altitude as she drew out another arrow, murmuring a short blessing as it flew towards the demon. True to its aim, the arrow pierced his chest: Yosaflame flinched, before distractedly looking for her, barely evading the downwards slash of Wodahs' sword in his bewilderment. As if knowing he'd be at a disadvantage, what with the archer in the air and the swordsman on the spire, his eyes flickered, glowing red, as the ground turned black, forming numerous bats as the dark mist rose.

Meeting eyes, Grora nodded in sync with the Head Angel. Leaving a trail of downy white feathers, he took to the sky as well, his white uniform contrasting against the darkness of the red sky. Being their best archer, Lady Etihw had often sent them together on missions, what with the Head Angel being their most skilled swordsman. The lethal mixture of close and long-ranged attacks from two perfectly synchronised angels was more than enough for anyone, was something they had practiced together. In such circumstances, they had to keep silent to avoid attracting the attention of their enemies, but the long time they had spent fighting together had ensured that she was already used to the quiet nature of the Head Angel.

She didn't need words to know exactly what he wanted her to do.

Releasing arrow after arrow in quick succession, Grora concentrated on eliminating the summoned bats that were haphazardly crowding the sky, preventing them from intervening with the heated sword-on-sword battle currently happening before her. She herself darted around constantly, evading the bats coming towards her before doing a barrel roll and shooting them down.

While shooting, she watched with interest as well, at the magnificent sight. While Yosaflame was renown for his swordsmanship, it wasn't as if the Head Angel wasn't highly proficient as well. His wings spread slightly, Wodahs lunged forward, his two blades whistling as it slashed the wind. With a single beat, the demon slipped backwards and lifted his sword, flicking it down to his side as it burst into flames, before beating his wings again, swinging his sword nimbly from his right. Wodahs darted to his left, away from the orbit of the sword, swiftly gliding away from the demon, who turned behind to follow, but was forced to evade yet another arrow coming towards him.

With bloodshot eyes, Yosaflame looked up at her, a scar on his face where the arrow had grazed him. As if realising that she would never allow him to hurt Wodahs, he began flying straight towards Grora. Eyes dilating, Grora folded her wings, allowing herself to fall away from the approaching demon, ponytails dancing upwards due to the wind as gravity pulled her to the earth. Behind her pursuer, Grora could see the Head Angel closely following, the three of them headed towards the ground.

If she could turn around to fly downwards than fall, it would feel more comfortable for her, but her wings wouldn't be able to help her escape before he'd catch up. Gritting her teeth, Grora gripped her bow tightly, fighting against the wind as she steadied her hands and fired a volley of shots: Yosaflame nimbly skirted left and right repeatedly, successfully evading most of the shots, although some did graze him, leaving his clothes tattered and scars across his pale skin. Eyes still intent on the prey, Yosaflame's lips parted, and Grora's eyes dilated once more as she realised what he was doing.

With a light puff, a flame materialised on the hand he had placed in front of his mouth. Now, he opened his palm, and taking a deep breath, exhaled a strong blast of fire, so strong that it reached her falling body.

"A, aaahh!" Unable to control herself, she let out a cry of pain as the flames engulfed her, but it was only for a split second before she felt a cool sensation. Having shut her eyes and covered her face with her arm, it took her a while to realise the hymn the Head Angel had instantly started singing upon seeing the flames touching her, was what was forming the barrier around her body, protecting her from further harm and slowing her descent.

The demon's eyes blazed with fury. As the flames dissipated, with a quick burst of speed, he clenched his sword and lunged forward. Before Grora could even react, his sword had already made contact with her body, the enchantments imbued within it corroding the barrier around her. She saw the triumphant look in his eyes as she cried again, as he grabbed her collar, before it turned to shock as a white sword protruded from his stomach.

Even as she fell and the wind gusted her ponytails and feathers into her line of sight, Grora saw with hazy eyes as the white figure and his sword slashed venomously into the already motionless body, hacking viciously as if the demon had just committed the worst crime possible. Before her sight went completely dark, she could vaguely make out the white figure pausing, leaving the demon to fall as he plunged towards her desperately...


	9. Fairy Tale (2)

This is becoming more like a wartime story from Wodahs / Grora's perspectives than an actual wodagrora fanfiction. Dammit. Also I'm too wordy I need to stop bullcrapping so much. I also need to update Seifuku. DAMMIT.

I'm not really sure why but as I went along, Grora ended up sounding more and more like an unfeeling killing machine, and now the story has somehow changed because I'm actually just making it up as I go. I don't actually have a proper outline when I write, like what I want to include and what I don't want to. I just go with the flow. Which is why this foreword is also getting really lengthy. I'm going to stop here now.

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Amidst Sherbet's protests, Wodahs had dismissed the numerous wounds on his body as minor trivialities, only agreeing to be treated professionally after the blond angel promised to stop letting his scarf get caught on dead trees each time he entered the fray.

That wasn't to say that he wasn't a good fighter, of course. Although the blonde wasted far too much of his time on trying to look suave, the fringe constantly jabbing his left eye and the scarf he constantly had to shrug off didn't deter the body count his staff had racked up, although it did deter him from delivering his lines as he stood amidst the pile of fallen demons. "Naught but this holy justice should thy foul beings be subjec-Ow, my eye hurts."

Following which, he'd be unceremoniously cuffed and slung over Rigatona's shoulder as she offered the protesting him to the demons. Ultimately, his sheer incapability to stop being a narcissist and personal preference to work in the field of healing had led him back to the stronghold, where he was hailed as a stupid but amazing medic.

Wodahs shut his eyes as Sherbet gingerly bandaged his torso, wondering if someone else had done the same for Grora as well. After pulverising the raid leader Yosaflame, Wodahs had sighted the petite angel falling to her demise, his heart skipping a beat as he opened his wings to their full wingspan, going into a dive, feathers streamlined to the wind as he plunged furiously, hands outstretched as he intoned a similar melody to the prior.

Grabbing onto her slender frame, he held on tightly as a quick check had told him that the inertia from falling had, fortunately, not killed her. He too remembered breathing a sigh of relief, although his breath had hitched at the slash wound Yosaflame had gifted her: if he didn't hurry, she would likely die. Carrying her in his arms, he had then swiftly brought her to the angels' camp.

The moment the assigned army medic had seen her, however, she had gone into a state of panic. "That," she pointed to the wound that was still leaking blood onto the shabby carpeting, "is beyond my power." The medic had insisted for her to be delivered to the stronghold, and Wodahs had watched as she gently put the pained angel down, summoning over another angel who hurriedly cast the teleportation spell and disappeared with Grora.

"Now be off with you," the medic had declared, waving Wodahs away, where he had rejoined the fray, the strength in his blades even more profound than before at the thought of the demons having nearly wiped out the elite precision squad, as if killing the demons before him would better the situation. In fact, it did, and he noted with some satisfaction the anguish on the faces of the unmoving demons as he stood in a flood of their blood. The battle, however, had ended for the day with no conclusion as to who had won, and with Rigatona's strangely fiery encouragement (which involved punching him hard enough that the medics became convinced that he should too return to the castle for treatment), Wodahs had gone back to the castle and was now undergoing Sherbet's usual fussing while waiting to see Grora.

"There's nothing much to see though, she's already awoken and looks pretty good considering," Sherbet tutted as he nimbly fastened the bandages, taking a step back as he inspected his handiwork. "With enough care, it shouldn't leave too big a scar... Lucky too, that it's not going to affect how good-looking you are." Wodahs would have flinched if it hadn't already been common knowledge that Sherbet was a perverted bisexual who enjoyed looking at both topless men and topless women, although the latter usually ended up with him being punched in the face (that was also the last time he had ever tried to peek on the busty Rigatona). He did, however, give the angel a cold stare, at which Sherbet hurriedly flailed his hands, knowing just how scary the Head Angel could be.

"No, no, but it's true, you know? You're considered pretty hot, and of all the chests I've seen in my in my days here, you've got one of the best, a nice, lean torso." Almost as an afterthought, he quickly added, "Of course, they don't let me work with the girls, no need to worry, I didn't work on Grora. Honest, honest," he pleaded innocence as the Head Angel's face darkened. It was already enough that he couldn't wipe off the guilt of having failed to save the elite precision squad, and this person's perverse remarks wouldn't make it any better.

"I actually prefer boys, really, nothing to worry about! Besides, she's already potentially engaged, and I'm not thaat kind of guy," Sherbet shrugged. "Plus, I already have someone I like..."

Upon which, he sighed dramatically and looked out of the window dreamily. But Wodahs was really more interested in the first part: even though Grora was his partner, she had never mentioned a fiancé in all those years they had spent together. There was no reason to doubt Sherbet's words, especially since he was at the centre of information trade, being a medic who tended to and interacted with hundreds of angels on a daily basis. "Engaged?" Repeating the word, Wodahs raised his eyebrows as he leaned forward, flexing as he tested his bandaged right arm.

"Don't be like that, Head Angel." Receiving only a mysterious chuckle as a reply, Wodahs flinched as the newly-reattached tendon quivered dangerously. "Hey, hey! Don't do that! You know how much trouble that thing gave me?!" Gently pushing Wodahs' shoulders, Sherbet re-examined the wound as Wodahs tilted his head backwards and exhaled deeply, slightly weary from the long day of fighting.

"There, everything should be alright now." Tidying up the loose ends of the bandages, Sherbet finally declared that triumphantly. "Just put on some clothes and you're all done-Ah?" His words faltered as the Head Angel stood up and headed directly for the door. "Come on, at least wear a singlet or something, that's not very..."

Sherbet's words fell on deaf ears as the Head Angel reached out. Placing his hand on the doorknob, he turned back, eyes still retaining that unfazed manner. "If it's Grora, there's no problem, is there?"

Leaving a slightly dumbfounded Sherbet standing alone in the empty room. The blonde sighed, before seating himself in the previously occupied seat, shaking his head as he placed his palm on his forehead, a weary smile on his face.

"Well, that's true, but..."

Indeed, as Wodahs entered the room, he saw Grora sharply look up from her book, saw her raise her eyebrows as she said the words he had been expecting. "Pervert." But the nonchalant look on her face and the monotone in which she uttered that word was enough to tell him that she wasn't serious and couldn't really give a damn either way.

"Good to see that you're fine." Ignoring the clear insult, Wodahs took a seat beside her bed, legs apart as he leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on his lap as he stared at her.

"I apologise for not coming to help sooner." Before his eyes, the scene dyed with red appeared again, the angels splattered with blood as they lay, wide-eyed, on the tiles. If he had arrived earlier, perhaps the girl sitting before him wouldn't have become the only survivor of the elite precision squad...

That was his main reason for coming to see her. The guilt he sustained from having failed to protect the archers despite being the one assigned to protect them was too great to bear, so at the very least, he could ensure that its last remaining member wasn't overwhelmed by the trauma of the incident.

"It's not okay, but whatever," her eyes ran over the words, darting back and forth with each new line. "It's a pity that they're gone, but I already have an idea of who to replace them with."

Was it because of the common knowledge that many angels would fall in the war, that she seemed so nonchalant, so unaffected by their deaths? Inwardly, he marveled at how collected she was, as if the ones who had died hadn't been the comrades he had so often seen her joking with, as if she had no feelings to mourn them with.

But that was how Lady Etihw had created her, after all. To be a heartless killer who shot down her enemies without hesitation. Wodahs wondered if that meant that she truly had no emotions and feelings... His eyes flickered back to her as she raised her head slightly and glanced over at him.

"So how're you?"

"I'm alright. And you?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"..."

"..." Turning her attention back to the book in her hands, Grora's eyes were as bored as ever as she skimmed each line quickly, flipping the pages nonchalantly as she crossed her legs. Wodahs reached out a hand as Grora tried to push herself up and flinched, but she batted his hand away, waving hers to signal that she was alright.

"..."

"..."

"... Did you have something you needed to talk about?" Without lifting her eyes, Grora continued skirmishing the pages as she posed the question.

"... Sherbet mentioned that you have a fiance." Without much hesitation, Wodahs delivered the question in his usual blunt manner, although it was phrased more like a statement. The question itself, however, was odd enough for Grora to look away from her book, and at him with utter bewilderment, before something seemed to click and she sighed, lowering her book.

"Oh, that." Casually waving a hand, Grora explained, exasperation and resignment in her mellow voice. "After I awoke, Sherbet dropped by with the books I asked for, making a joke that you and I were pretty much engaged to each other at this point in time already."

"..." An awkward silence ensued. Or more like, a silence that was only awkward for the Head Angel. Grora had never been the type to get embarrassed easily: that was why Wodahs was so sure she wouldn't mind him coming in topless, because from the very start, it had always been him covering his eyes politely to protect his own modesty when she unbuttoned and shrugged off her coat and dress in front of him as they took a shower to wash off the blood after the completion of another successful mission, ignoring her remarks that it made no difference since she still had her underwear on anyway.

But, even if they had spent a long time together having fun brutally ending the lives of pathetic demons with a sadistic strike, a concept such as "love" was indeed rather strange to the Head Angel, who furrowed his eyebrows as he debated the topic internally. Grora, however, seemed completely unaffected, returning her gaze to the book.

Of course she wouldn't care. After all, just like how she didn't care about the deaths of her comrades, the small angel had been crafted not to feel, crafted only for the sole purpose of fighting. Despite her petite frame, despite having a rather fair, beautiful face to match her fine, doll-like hands, those hands had often been the same hands that held a bow splattered with red as she mercilessly fired a volley of shots that sent innumerable demons to their deaths, her lips curving upwards in a smirk.

Even Lady Etihw had said so herself. When he had first opened his eyes, the first thing he had seen was a girl, her eyes shut tightly in slumber as her grey hair floated gently. Reaching out a hand, he had run his hands through the long strands, which had slipped out of his hands like silken thread. At the point of his creation, there was no way for him to know anything, but it felt like she was familiar to him, felt like they were connected together by some mysterious force.

But that was before the white-clad goddess had spoken to him. it was only after the Lady had given him his purpose that he had finally gained the remainder of his soul, became capable of comprehensive thought.

"A Seraphic Kyriote... Your authority extends to all angels who must bow before you, but you answer directly to me as the one to protect my throne. But let that gentle nature of yours not deter you: your wings shall be swifter than the wind in winter, your sword more lithe than the predatory hawk."

"You shall be known as Wodahs." The white figure had finally uttered as he clasped the hand of the still-sleeping girl. At the sight of the girl, Lady Etihw's eyes had flickered, then she had walked over, bending down to inspect the other angel, deep in thought as she placed a finger to her lips, trying to think of a form, a soul to give her.

"An Exousia... Crafted to only crave for the bloodshed of war, to only desire the happiness of fighting," she had said. "But the frontlines would be dangerous for you, little one, so become an archer in my name, with eyes even sharper than that of the hawk and ears even keener than those of the eagle. Destroy your enemies with graceful brutality and sadistic beauty, and become the shield that protects your other half."

"Now awaken, Alela=Grora."

Of course, the other half she had mentioned was none other than him, since they were created side by side, knew each other from the very beginning. An angel made to fight with devastating elegance, made to become the shield to his sword. That was probably why they made such a good duo, her arrows and his swords a lethal combination. Because that was all Lady Etihw had granted upon her. Grora had no need for things like romance or love. It was a mystery to even him, in fact, if she even actually **had** emotions, or if she was just the puppet doll that Lady Etihw had made her to be.

But he was deviating from the topic.

Glancing over at the bedridden girl again, he noticed that she had resumed her reading, which aroused his curiosity. It wasn't that Grora disliked reading or was highly ill-read, but if given the chance she would very much prefer to go kill some demons, practice her shooting or torture someone with her dagger. Slightly curious, Wodahs shifted slightly to see the title of the book, but it was still obscured by Grora's hand.

"It's a fairy tale." As if knowing what he was trying to do, Grora sighed, flipping yet another page as she blinked, before her left hand presented the book to him. Taking her up on the offer, Wodahs graciously received the book, skimming each line quickly as he tried to make sense of the story.

_"If you are an angel, can you grant my wish?" The girl asked. Her eyes wandered over the barren land, cracked and destroyed by the war. Those same eyes had watched as anguished mothers wept for their lost sons, watched as they invaded and torched the village, watched as everything she knew was erased away._

_Her voice broke as her lips parted. "Please end all suffering."_

_The angel gazed at the girl tenderly, kneeling down as he reached out a hand to wipe away the tears rolling down her cheeks. "I will do more than that, my beloved angel," he assured. "Because I love you."_

It was a rather interesting take on fairy tales, Wodahs supposed. In most fairy tales, the mythological being did not show any romantic feelings towards the human protagonist. It probably wasn't a true stereotype, since he vaguely remembered an angel he knew who had married a human, but it was unusual nonetheless that a fairy tale would break out of that tradition.

"... The angel calls her an angel?" As if to clarify his doubts, Wodahs looked at the girl who was waiting expectantly for his response.

"It's not meant that way," she said in exasperation, pushing away the blanket as she shifted to face him completely. "Humans have a strange concept that angels are pure and holy, so the term is used to symbolise that the girl is beautiful and innocent."

"In fact," she added, toying with her hair, "the angel himself isn't actually an angel: he's just a normal boy who falls in love with the girl."

"..." Wodahs returned his gaze to the book as he flipped to the very last page and continued reading, looking merely for the ending to the fairy tale.

_With wings as light as down, the girl leaned down as her lips touched those of the trembling soldier's. "Thank you for fighting to bring peace," she smiled, tears in her eyes. She was as beautiful as ever, the sword embedded in her chest absent as her white dress fluttered in the gentle wind. As he reached out to touch her one last time, she dissolved into pieces, but the boy was sure that he heard a whisper from those soft lips._

"..." Wodahs turned the page to see the final words of the book, slightly faded with age and blurred with tears: _I love you._

He had the vague impression that the story wasn't exactly a very happy fairy tale. Was this kind of thing truly suitable for children? As if taking his silence to mean he was done, Grora snatched back the book, crossing her legs as she flipped back to the page she was on. "It's not like I haven't read this already, truth to be told," she murmured, "but I just find that I can't really understand it. Why would she throw herself in front of him?"

She glanced at the Head Angel furtively, as if expecting him to have an answer. Temporarily at a loss for words, he contemplated the question carefully, looking down at the marble floorboards as he did so. "I suppose that would be because she loves him," he finally answered, lifting and turning his head to the right just in time to see her arch her eyebrows.

"Really? How wonderful," her voice dripped with sarcasm as she tossed the book aside in disgust with a flick of her hand. "Honestly, that's stupidity at its finest. Sacrificing herself for something as fickle as love? It's practical in a storybook, but in real life that would never happen."

"It's not completely impossible." Wodahs had no idea how to respond to her outburst, instead opting to take a logical approach.

"Bullshit. Fairy tales," Grora emphasised, slamming her hands down, "are full of lies. People forget even the most beloved of memories: she wouldn't even be able to become a memory in his heart. It's truly a waste that she chose to throw away her life."

Sighing as she looked at the book with regret, she murmured rather softly, "Especially since I thought she was similar to me too."

Picking up the book again, Wodahs' eyes ran over the words, looking for the semblance Grora had found with the girl. It proved to be a difficult task, as he doubted if he had heard correctly: from what he could see, the girl was feminine, weak, gentle. Completely unlike Grora, who was courageous, ruthless, and sometimes even more like a man than himself. Indeed, he was about to cast off her words as a misinterpretation, until his eyes fell onto the page he had just flipped to.

_"Please stop this. Please stop."_

_"I don't want to see their broken corpses anymore! I don't want to hear their anguished cries of suffering anymore!"_

_"If there were no conflict in this broken world, what kind of world would this become?"_

_"Could we then live in a world where the wind carries the scent of fresh wildflower blossoms as the radiant sun casts its warm light onto the green meadows?"_

_"Although... That is surely but a fantasy."_

"For there is no other world I know but for this one."

Even though Wodahs was reading silently, he heard a voice utter those poetic words, and turned to see her gazing at the book as well, her usual indifferent eyes having a flicker of sadness as her quiet, sweet voice repeated that melancholic line. Even though Ciel was hailed as their best songstress, resultantly being put on the battlefield as the enchantment singer, Wodahs found that a thousand years of hearing Grora's voice as she sung her magic hymns hadn't affected just how beautiful he found it to be.

"..." The Head Angel stayed silent, still absorbed by the melodious way she had intoned the words of the girl in the story.

"... Do you think peace exists?" Stretching her legs as she looked at the ceiling, Grora delivered yet another question as he crossed his fingers, his body leaning forward and the book on his lap as he pressed his hands to his lips. There was a long pause as they both continued to stare at the floor and the ceiling respectively, deep in thought, before Wodahs finally turned to her, who responded in kind the moment her eyes caught him moving.

"If it did, I wouldn't hate it."

It would probably be too cruel to say his true thoughts. The war had raged for a long time now, and he could barely remember a time he didn't spend cutting down enemy after enemy on the frontlines, or infiltrating and assassinating a target with Grora's support, or drinking coffee as he wrote out yet another strategy for another invasion. While he longed for days when he wouldn't need to worry about Death staring him in the eye, it seemed very likely that it would never happen.

"... Well, I still hold my claim that she and I are kind of similar in that aspect. Although, I'm mostly just curious how that world would be like. It's still rather fun to see how they beg for mercy." A cold shiver ran down his spine at the sight of Grora's shark-like smile, although the expression on his face didn't change one bit.

Both of them jumped slightly at the creak of the door opening, which was followed by a caramel brown bob popping into sight. This was followed by a familiar voice protesting, "Hey, come on Rig, you can't go in there, you're disturbing the lov—" and the sound of something crashing against the wall and breaking into smithereens as Rigatona easily punched his objections away.

As she saw his clothes, or lack thereof, she raised her eyebrows slightly, but chose not to say anything. Instead, she went straight to the topic, stating her purpose explicitly. "Head Angel, Lady Etihw requests that we prepare for the siege in the south-west."

Her heels clacked against the marble tiles as she approached them, bowing slightly before directing her attention to the bedridden girl, her cold voice tinged with slight concern. After all, Rigatona and Grora were on rather good terms, with Rigatona having punched out a few demons who had made fun of the short angel, and Grora having shot down the people who had harassed the busty angel. "And how would you be, Alela?"

A small smile appeared on Grora's face. "I've had worse."

As if relieved, Rigatona closed her eyes happily, before opening them to reveal her usual serious expression. "That's good to hear," she said, crossing her arms, "I'm afraid I'll have to take the Head Angel and report to Lady Etihw, though."

"Ah, go ahead." Grora seemed more than happy to fulfil her request, throwing a fierce glance at the Head Angel, as if to say, "Hurry up already!" Getting the hint, Wodahs grasped the book as he arose from the chair, wincing slightly as his sore injuries throbbed painfully, as if there were arrows piercing him all over his body.

As the stoic expression on his face faltered a little to reveal the pained look underneath, he could hear Rigatona's voice as she raised the question. "Will you be alright, Head Angel?" Looking up at her, Wodahs was about to nod in response when he found himself being interrupted by a melodious voice.

_"... Bathe in the pouring light and weave the song of souls..."_

Simultaneously, they turned their heads to look at Grora, whose eyes were closed as her lips parted and closed, her head tilted slightly downwards as her fingers interlaced each other, an annoyed expression on her face. He bowed his head in thanks as a white mist swirled around him and took away the pain.

It wasn't the first time he had heard that song, having heard it multiple times on their missions. But the most memorable time he had heard that voice was after one of their infiltrations had ended in failure, with them having to fight off countless demons as they struggled to escape. He had felt her rare tears drip onto the numerous stab wounds in his bloodied body while she hovered over him, her usual icy smile wiped away and replaced by her biting her lips to try and control her sobs. Her trembling hands had clasped his red-stained ones as she wove the words together, trying to save him from his near-catatonic state.

He could still remember that, despite his state, he had gazed at her, and marvelled at how remarkably life-like she was. In fact, he had almost thought that her heart was truly capable of feeling sadness and anguish as she looked upon his dying form. But after the incident, she had never shown that kind of face again, and he had dismissed the thought, reminding himself that Lady Etihw had specifically ordered her to protect him always.

The white mist vanished upon completing its duty. While it was true that Sherbet had done a good job of patching him up, and also true that Grora wasn't great at playing doctor, he supposed that, because the connection between him and Grora was stronger, her healing spell seemed to have a greater effect on him than Sherbet's, and he felt completely rejuvenated, having been subject to both Sherbet's and Grora's care.

Opening her eyes, Grora turned to face Rigatona. "He'll say nothing if you only ask him," she sighed in resignment as she shrugged and leaned back, a hand slung over the bed frame as the other fiddled with her bangs.

"Much obliged." Even though he tried to show his gratitude, the words still came out emotionlessly, cold and curt.

"Just get out of here." Bowing his head slightly, Wodahs was about to follow Rigatona's retreating figure, but was harshly stopped as he felt her hand grab onto his wrist and clench tightly. Turning around to look downwards, his eyes made contact with her dark grey eyes, still as pretty as ever despite the explicit irritation in them.

But even Wodahs' cold heart felt slight pain from the icy words that Grora spat at him "You're really going to leave like that? With **my** book?" It was then that he realised that he was still firmly gripping onto the book with his other hand, lifting his hand to glance at the black, leather-bound book one more time, before bowing his head apologetically as he offered it back to her. Grora snatched the book as she curled up and flipped to the first page, the pout on her face disappearing as she read.

"Sensing that he was being ignored again, Wodahs turned to leave.

"... Even if fairy tales are full of lies..."

He stopped in mid-step as he heard her soft mumbling.

"... This is still the story I love most anyway."

"... ..." Gazing at her, Wodahs found that the slight blush on her angelic face, combined with the childish pout and her expressive eyes, was a surprisingly and devastatingly adorable sight.

"... Get out."

Her glare was intense, with even Wodahs being able to sense the ferocity and irritation in those fiery eyes. He swiftly excused himself as he retreated, heading towards the cross-armed Rigatona, who was already tapping her foot impatiently. Beside her was a grey lump, which was rubbing his blond head as he gingerly stood up.

As Wodahs donned the collared shirt draped over a nearby chair, his ears picked up the sounds of the scene behind him. "Rig, come on, don't be like that, I still have a date to atten—" His words were cut off again as his body collided with the wall and limply slumped to the ground for the second time.

Without even breaking a sweat, Rigatona looked at her Sherbet-stained glove in disgust, before glancing over at Wodahs, who had turned to face her. "Shall we go?"

With a nod, he accompanied her as they headed off to meet their Lady.


End file.
